


Just Maybe

by Goodchampagneandprivateplanes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Baker Harry, Famous Louis, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Non-Famous Harry, Red Carpet, Romance, Shy Harry, Top Louis, i hope everyone likes this, larry stylinson - Freeform, please enjoy, soft romance, wow i think this is the longest thing I ever wrote
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 04:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6889951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goodchampagneandprivateplanes/pseuds/Goodchampagneandprivateplanes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You can put it under Tomlinson — eh, Louis Tomlinson, actually. But, if anybody asks, I was never here.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Maybe

Harry was used to opening up the bakery. The owner, Sherrie, had even given him his own key to the shop since he has opened almost every day for the past two years. He was used to the routine and he seemed to love his job. He had recently gotten promoted to head baker after the previous one decided to retire. It was kind of ironic how the previous baker retired, meanwhile, twenty-two year old Harry was now in charge of how the back of the bakery ran. Joe, the previous lead, had taught Harry all he needed to know to keep things running smoothly. He shared all of his secrets with Harry since he never trusted any of the older guys to remember how to do things specifically — like how to put in an dash of cinnamon and a bit of coffee extract into the chocolate cake, even though the recipe didn’t _specifically_ call for it. 

Just like every other weekday there was, Harry walked into the bakery back door and unlocked the padlock for the rest of the employees for the day Sherrie was due in within the hour and the other baker was supposed to show up within two hours or so. Everyone’s schedule was fairly flexible, but Harry always made sure to show up an hour and a half prior to opening so he could get everything ready for the day. 

The bakery never was too busy, per se. They had about 600-800 people walk through the doors in the 10 hours they were open. There were times where there was a line out the door, and other times where the only thing that kept the workers occupied were the TV and the endless jokes out of Liam, one of the other bakers who only worked two or three days a week. 

Harry put the bread in the oven and started mixing together the batter for the cupcakes. He loved having a say in what kind of cupcakes were the specials for the day. There were always the basics, and Harry would always make one or two special cupcakes for the day. Today, he decided upon a maple bacon cupcake and a chocolate crumb cake cupcake. They seemed to sell well and he didn’t mind making either, even though the crumb topping was a bit tedious to make. 

Part of the reason why Harry loved working in the back was because he rarely ever had to go up front and deal with customers. He always liked having a bit of semi-private time and not having to worry about whether the money counted up at the end of the day or if he made somebody’s cappuccino right. 

Fifteen minutes before opening, Harry softly sings to himself as he puts out the bread loaves on their proper display bins. He wiped off the glass display and then promptly filled it up with fresh, beautiful cupcakes and cookies. And, just like routine, he started brewing four fresh pots of coffee and started up the specialty coffee machines. It was like clock work. Sherrie would walk up from downstairs once she is done with her paper work and their first customer, who always seemed to be an older lad named Paul, will walk in about fifty minutes after opening. Harry never minded helping him though, he just got a large, plain, black coffee and a chocolate chip cookie for $3.19. Nothing he couldn’t handle. 

Harry flipped over the open sign promptly at 7:00am and went to the back to prepare tomorrow’s bread loaves. As he was sprinkling flour generously over his workspace, he heard the front door bells jingle. He silently prayed that Sherrie would come up to take care of the customer, but, after 30 seconds, he heard no sign of movement from her office. 

“I’ll be right there!” Harry called out from the back. Paul was never this early. Fuck. 

Harry wiped his floured hands on his black jeans and quickly wiped his hands off again with a towel that was hanging on the wall. His hair was tied back in a loose bun and he wore his now-flour-covered black skinny jeans and a black shirt with the shop’s logo and name on the back, along with “Styles” running across the back of the tee, similar to a sports jersey. 

He turned bright red as he turned the corner, before he even saw anyone. He wiped his hands again, this time on the back of his pants. He definitely didn’t want to get raw flour on anything in the front of the store. 

“May I help you?” he asked as he looked up to his first customer, who definitely was not Paul. This man, in his early twenties, stood on the opposite side of the counter, with sunglasses on and his hair slicked back in some kind of contemporary pompadour. His jeans were similar to Harry’s and he wore a band shirt — some band that Harry had never heard of. The man slid his sunglasses to the top of his head as Harry started speaking to him. God, Harry had never seen eyes like his — or cheekbones. Those cheekbones. Harry went to say something else but instead, his tongue tripped over his words, and he decided to just not talk any more. 

“Hi, yeah, ehm. Do you guys cater?” the man said, cracking his knuckles. “I need some goodies for a party and I heard you guys were good.” 

“Yeah, of course. When do you need the stuff by?” Harry asked, grabbing the catering and booking event book. 

“The party is on the 21st — so, Friday,” the man started off, “I mean, if you can’t, I get it. It is kind of short notice. I just was told last night that I was expected to cater dessert…” 

“No, no, no! Of course, we can do that. What are you looking for exactly? How many people? We have different party deals, if you want to look at those,” Harry said, conscious to not stutter too much. He felt the warmth on his face creep up again as he shoved one of his hands in his back pocket. He really hated talking to customers, and, _God_ this one was beautiful. Fuck. What was he even thinking? 

“It’s quite a lot of people..” the man said again, pulling out his phone to fiddle with. “Like, around 3,000 or so.” 

Harry’s eyes widened. 

“E-Excuse me?” he asked, shocked at the answer. He was expecting, maybe, 200 people. He couldn’t help but stutter that time. 

“I mean — if you can’t, you can’t. I get it.” 

“No — that’s fine. We have five days to get this sorted out. That’s fine,” he said, voice shaking. “Do you want us to deliver them or are you going to be picking them up?” 

“I was also going to ask if you guys could set up a display.” 

Harry was now beyond bright red. His forehead was now shimmering with sweat and he was chewing at his lip. He just nodded his head at the man’s response. 

“And what name should I put this under? And what time should we arrive where?” Harry was thankful that the planning calendar had an outline for the details that were necessary. He would have definitely forgotten half of the things that he needed to ask. 

“You can put it under Tomlinson — eh, Louis Tomlinson, actually. But, if anybody asks, I was never here.” He also gave Harry his address, phone number, and address where the party was. 

Harry looked at the other man with an eyebrow cocked. Who was this man and why was he being so secretive? 

“Yeah, alright. I doubt anybody will ask, but sure, Louis, you were never here..” Harry said slowly. He jotted down the rest of the information and closed the planning book. 

“And, while I’m here, I might as well get something for myself. I haven’t even tried your stuff and I just booked a major event for you guys. You’re welcome. I guess I’ll try a caramel latte — give me the largest you have — and a cupcake. Whatever you think is good.” 

Harry exhaled. He wasn’t sure why he was holding his breath, but he was, for whatever reason. Maybe that’s why his face felt extra red. He wasn’t sure. He made Louis his latte and wrote his name on the cup, like Starbucks does, but put a smiley next to his name. He wasn’t sure why he did that, he doesn't do that for anybody else. He didn’t have to know that, though. He put a chocolate crumb cupcake in a box for him, as well and handed him both. 

“It’s on the house. I’ve probably forgotten to ask you something, so that’s an in advance apology for the call you’ll probably be getting later on this week,” Harry said, shoving his hands in his pockets again. He was happy that the counter was high enough so that Louis couldn’t see what he did. 

“Thanks, Styles. Cheers. And, lad, when you show up, maybe don’t have flour all over your bum” 

And with that, Louis turned on his heels and walked out of the store and the front door bells jingled again. Harry exhaled again and put his head in his hands on the counter. How the fuck was he supposed to cater a 3,000 person party before Friday? He’ll figure out a way. He always does. 

Harry ran into Sherrie’s office quickly and managed to only trip over his feet once. He excitedly told her the good news before realizing that he totally did not have the capability to do this without working overtime. Hey, whatever it takes. 

Wednesday rolled around quicker than Harry would have liked. Wednesday was prep day, since bake day was Thursday, and event day was Friday. Sherrie hired a builder to build a nice display that would fit 4,500 cupcakes. It was a beautiful display, in all honesty, and it was quite simple. All Louis told Harry was that it was an “elegant red carpet party”. Harry figured that there would be 3,000 people at some type of upscale Hollywood party venue dressed up all fancy with champagne and snooty attitudes. Actually, he wasn’t quite sure what to think, but that’s what he imagined it to be. Louis gave off a snooty kind of attitude, as if he was the most important person in the world. But, honestly, Harry didn’t have the slightest clue of who he was and he was too busy mentally preparing for this event to look up his name. 

Harry showed up to work on Wednesday an hour earlier than he normally does just so he can get going on everything he needed to do. The night before, he decided to write himself a checklist just so he could focus on everything that he needed to do. This morning was to make all of the frostings and fillings of the cupcakes, this afternoon was for making the eight different types of batters. Tomorrow morning was for baking. Tomorrow night was for decorating and staging. He would be staying four hours past close tomorrow night, and would be there two hours early on Friday morning to make sure everything is in line. Joe had taught him how to do a catering event, but he never told him how to run a catering event this big. He just hoped he would do the place justice. Okay. And, maybe, just _maybe_ , he wanted to impress Louis. Just a bit, at least. 

Harry was done with two frostings before opening, which he was completely satisfied with. Sure, two frostings in two hours wasn’t a great record, but when you put into perspective that it would be covering almost 600 cupcakes, it was a pretty decent time. It was this time that Harry was thankful that Sherrie had bought three huge mixers rather than the two she intended to. Her reasoning behind it was “one for batter, one for frosting, one whenever you don’t want to clean”. This morning, it was simply a “three for frosting” deal. Harry was trying to balance making frosting with trying to open up shop as well. 

Fifteen minutes before opening, like clockwork, Harry put out all the breads for the day, cleaned off the display, and filled it up with cookies and cupcakes. He pressed the coffee machines to start brewing and starting up. Sherrie was up front early today since she knew Harry would be tied up with the huge order that he had to do. He was relieved that he worked with such great people so that there would actually be someone up front, rather than him having to run back and forth from the back for the first hour or so of work. He flipped over the store sign to open and then headed back for the back. 

Harry jammed out to his music that was blaring through his earphones while he continued to make the frostings. He put them into huge tubs and covered them with Saran wrap and dragged them into the walk-in fridge once they were each done. He was happy to have some alone time. Liam, and another baker, Niall, ran the show today as far as keeping up with stock. Harry had made sure to bake enough for the day so they wouldn’t have to worry that much about stock. They were there mostly to help prepare tomorrow’s baked goods, since Harry definitely would not have time for that. 

It wasn’t long before Harry was covered in powered sugar from the frostings. He didn’t care though. He was in his own element, dancing and singing along to his music. The other bakers knew better than to bother him, and quite frankly, they didn’t care what he was doing. Harry took on full charge of this event, like Joe said. Joe always told him to run his own show and only ask for help if desperately needed. If he didn’t need help, don’t ask, because then he can see the end product as entirely his. 

It was two hours before closing and Harry only had one frosting left to make. He cleaned out the last mixer and turned around, just to be greeted by Sherrie. 

“Oh, sorry, hon. Someone is asking for you up front though?” Sherrie said, almost as if she was questioning him at the end. “I don’t know who it is, though.” 

Harry, out of habit, wiped his hands on his jeans, wiped his hands on the towel on the wall, and then wiped his hands on the back of his pants. He was an utter mess, almost completely covered in powdered sugar. There was only one man in the shop at the time, and, of course, it was Louis. 

“Hey there, Styles. I guess you’re working hard,” Louis said. His hair was different than the other day. This time, it was in a beanie and he wore glasses. He was wearing a tank top and shorts with Adidas shoes. Harry raised his eyebrows at him. 

“You can call me Harry. You asked for me?” 

“Yeah, just wanted to see how it’s going and wanted to make sure you didn’t forget. But you didn’t. Just making sure,” Louis said. Harry felt his face go red again, but hoped that maybe this time he couldn’t see it, since he was _literally_ covered in powdered sugar. 

“I’m working on it, yes. Don’t worry. I’ve got it all under control,” Harry said, trying to sound more confident than he actually was. 

“Good, good. Just checking. I’ll see you on Friday, Styles.” 

“You can call me Harry, you know.” 

“Styles. It fits you better. Remember, no sugar on your bum either!” Louis said, chuckling at the end. “And, if anybody asks, I was never here.” And, just like the last time he was there, he turned on his heels and walked out the door. 

Harry still had no idea who this man was. And why was he making sure that everything was going along fine? He shrugged as he left and went back to making the frosting. He had more important things to do than worry about who this guy is and why he was so worried about people finding out where he is. 

Harry was at the bakery until 10:30pm making cupcake batter. He didn’t mind it, especially since after closing, he was allowed to blare his music through his phone. He let himself go and sang and danced with no barriers. He had fun with it and it made the time move so much faster. 

The next day, he arrived to work, yet again, an hour and a half early. He walked in and turned on all of the ovens. He first put the bread in for the day and sat and frosted today’s cupcakes. He was smart enough to bake today’s cupcakes late last night so that he wouldn’t have to worry about oven space all day. He actually made a bit more than usual, but he figured that in case they were popular for whatever reason today, there would be plenty. 

He pushed together three of the work stations and lined them with cupcake pans. Last night, after his shift, he had run to the 24-hour store and grabbed about 20 extra pans. He didn’t care about the cost. He just wanted Louis happy, and he knew that if he impressed him at this gig, and impressed the other people at this party, they might be able to cater more big parties, which, in the end, means more money for him. 

He lined all of the pans with cupcake wrappers. He figured that each oven can hold about 100 cupcakes, and there were 3 ovens, which meant he could bake 300 cupcakes an hour. Which means it would take about 15 rounds, which means about, realistically, 9 hours to prep and bake, which lands him at about a 4pm stop time for baking. After letting the last batch cool and frost, he would be out about 6pm. Well — no. He still needed to put the display and all of the cupcakes in the truck that Sherrie rented. So, he’ll be out about 9pm. Harry sighed as he thought about the timing, but it didn’t matter. Tomorrow was Friday, he’ll need to be here 5am, and he’ll be running on coffee. Louis had texted him last night and said that he would meet up with Harry before the event started so that he could see the display and show them where to set it up. 

Harry poured out the batter into the pans, which totaled out to be 300 cupcakes. He pulled the bread out of the oven and slid all of the cupcakes into the oven and set three timers — one on the oven, one on his phone, and one on a loud kitchen timer. He was _not_ going to let these cupcakes burn. It wasn’t the first time he was baking 100 cupcakes in an oven, so he had the timing down to a science. But, God, he was not going to let them burn. 

And, like clockwork, fifteen minutes before opening, Harry put the bread in their respective baskets, cleaned the glass display, and set out the cupcakes and cookies for the day. He started up all of the coffee machines and took a deep breath. He was going to be busy today. For the first time in months, he poured himself a cup of hot coffee and made it to his liking. He flipped the sign to open and sighed. Sherrie was not going to be there early today due to a family obligation, so he was stuck working back and front of the house for the first thirty minutes. Liam offered to come in a bit earlier than usual so that he could work up front for Harry. Harry was still appreciative of everyone he worked with. 

Harry took a long sip of his coffee before he put a lid on it and headed back to the back. He almost wished Louis would come in today, just so he could show him what he was doing. _Almost_. But, sometimes, almost is enough. 

Harry heard the door bells jingle, quickly followed by all three of his alarms for the first set of cupcakes. 

“I’ll be right there, just give me a minute!” Harry yelled from the back as he slid on his oven mitts to pull out the cupcakes. 

“It’s alright, Styles!” Louis yelled back. He really was only here to see Harry, because, well, _maybe_ he found him cute. He _may_ love how he always blushes whenever he talks and how he always shoves his hands in his pockets or run his fingers through his hair whenever he has to say something. _Maybe._

Harry froze. He recognized the voice. Plus, nobody else called him Styles. Everyone else called him Harry — like he told Louis to. He was growing fond of being called his last name, though. Harry pulled out the cupcakes and lined them up on a separate work bench so that they could cool. 

Five minutes after Louis arrived, Harry came out from the back and greeted him, face red. 

“Is your face always that red, Styles?” Louis said, calling him out. 

“It’s hot in the kitchen. What do you want from me?” Harry said, almost shocked at how flirtatiously he said it. He bit his lip and quickly changed the subject back to Louis, who was wearing sweatpants and a grungy tee shirt with his hair down with a fringe. “Why are you here again?” 

Louis shrugged. “You made a nice latte last time.” 

Harry raised one eyebrow at him before rolling his eyes at him and starting to make him another latte. Louis smirked at how Harry answered his order without even specifically ordering it. 

Harry handed him the latte from the other side of the counter and also handed him a small bag with a chocolate-filled croissant in it. 

“On the house, Louis,” Harry said. Out of habit, he wiped his hands on his pants, even though they weren’t covered in anything this time. 

Louis smiled at him. “So, really, how is everything going?” 

“I knew you just didn’t want a latte. And I know you won’t stop bothering me until you see for yourself.” Harry waved his hand to invite Louis back with him and Louis followed him into the kitchen. Usually, nobody is allowed back there, but due to the large order, and _maybe_ the fact that he was cute, Harry made an exception. Louis nodded in approval once he saw all of the cupcakes cooling, along with others lined up that are about to go in the oven. 

Harry started putting more in the oven as Louis helped himself to a seat on the countertop. Harry scoffed at his movement, but didn’t say anything about it. He set his timers again and sat in a chair opposite of where Louis was sitting on the countertop. 

“Looks like you know what you’re doing, Styles,” Louis remarked, impressed. “So, what exactly are you making for tomorrow?” 

“Eight types of cupcakes. The display is out back if you really want to see it. It’s fairly simple. It’s just a round display.” 

Louis nodded in approval. He figured that if he stayed silent, Harry would elaborate on what types of cupcakes he was making, but he never did without Louis prompting him to. 

“Just vanilla with buttercream frosting, chocolate with chocolate frosting, the chocolate crumb you had, maple bacon, red velvet with cream cheese frosting, carrot cake, apple with a cinnamon frosting, and an Earl Grey tea cupcake with a lavender frosting, for the more adventurous party-goers. Everything will be labeled, don’t worry,” Harry said as he started frosting the first batch of cupcakes. Louis nodded and turned around to watch Harry as he did his craft. His hands were meticulously placed so that the frosting came out just right. 

“So, red carpet themed party, huh?” Harry asked, slightly bothered by the silence. He usually had his music going or was listening to the banter of the other bakers. Liam should be here soon, but he would be up front, so Harry needed some kind of background noise other than the obnoxious ticking of the kitchen timer. 

“Eh — it’s not really a themed party,” Louis said slowly. He looked over at Harry again, who looked up at him. 

“Oh? Then what kind of theme is it? I thought it was red carpet…” 

“No, no. It is red carpet. But it’s not themed. It’s for an actual red carpet event.” 

Harry put his pastry bag down and looked at Louis straight in the eyes. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I - yeah. It’s for a red carpet event. You know how at the end of the red carpets sometimes before going into the actual event there’s a little food sometimes? Well, this is one of those times, and you’re supplying the cupcakes. I thought you figured that out?” Louis tilted his head as he said that and Harry’s cheeks flushed red again. He finally got used to the fact that it was going to be 3,000 people, but now, it’s going to be 3,000 people and some of those people are going to be celebrities. Fuck. 

“So, what is it that you do, Louis?” Harry asked as he picked the frosting back up and continued at his job. He wasn’t going to let that fact shake him up. His work was his work. He wouldn’t have changed it, no matter who it was for. 

“I’m actually a singer in a band.” 

“Oh?” 

Louis hummed in agreement. He turned back around, facing away from Harry as he swung his legs. Liam barged through the back door and threw his jacket on the coatrack and picked up an apron. 

“Steve! Off the counter!” Liam said as he ran up and messed with the man’s hair. Harry gasped in response and Louis turned around. 

“Oh — oh, shit. Man, you’re not Steve. Oh — I’m sorry. I’m just — I’m gonna go up front and pretend like that never happened. I just think I heard Paul walk in — I’m — good bye,” Liam said, hiding his face at the end as he ran up front faster than Harry and ever seen him run. Louis laughed in response and Harry was able to breathe again. 

“You don’t even look like Steve,” Harry said matter-of-factly. The timers went off again and Harry pulled the next batch of cupcakes out of the oven. As he turned around to go grab the next batch, he saw that Louis was boxing up the completed cupcakes in the transfer boxes. 

“You don't have to do that, you know,” Harry said, watching him as he boxed them up. Louis shrugged. 

“You’re busy. I can box some cupcakes up.” 

Harry put the next batch in the oven and set all of the timers again. He shrugged and Louis kept boxing them up until the batch was finished. 

“I should get going, I guess,” Louis said. He partially wanted for Harry to tell him to stay, but he also kind of wanted to get going for real. But, if Harry asked him to stay, he would not have thought another second before saying. 

“Alright, Louis. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Harry asked, not looking up from the cupcake batter that he was pouring. Louis hopped off the counter and nodded, watching him carefully. 

Louis walked around the other side to leave, but then changed his mind. He knew that the blushed curly-hair in a bun boy _maybe_ liked him as much as he liked him. Wait. _Likes._ He went over to Harry and Harry turned his head toward him. Before Harry could comprehend what was going on, Louis’ soft lips were pressed against his and Louis’ hands were cupping his cheeks. Harry relaxed against his hands, surprised at what was happening, but he happily greeted Louis’ lips. In fact, he wrapped his arms around Louis’ neck and he _may_ have pulled him closer. Louis pulled away slowly before opening his eyes. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, Styles.” 

And with that, Louis turned on his heels and headed toward the door. “Remember, no flour or sugar on your bum!” And with that, he walked out, just like every other time he came into the shop. 

Friday morning came way too fast for Harry’s liking. He was able to frost and box everything a bit earlier than expected since Louis had done a decent amount of boxing while Harry was frosting and baking. Louis didn’t call him after yesterday’s kiss, and honestly, Harry was okay with that. He was still confused about what happened, but he did not regret it one bit. 

Harry was loading up the van when he heard footsteps approach behind him. God. It was 6am, why was someone else here? He turned around, adrenaline pumping, ready to punch whoever was coming at him. Instead, he was greeted with Louis’ scruffy face and rough voice, as if he had just woken up a few minutes ago. 

“Need help, Styles?” Louis asked, yawning directly after asking. Harry laughed and handed him a few boxes to help load up. 

“No sugar on your bum yet?” 

Harry shook his head. “Nope! Not yet, at least.” 

It only took about an hour to load everything into the van. Harry went to the front and made Louis a latte and made himself a strong cup of coffee. He dumped the rest down the drain since it would be bad by the time that Liam opened up shop later on. He grabbed them both a croissant and slid it into the toaster just so it would get warm. Louis came up front and wrapped his arms around Harry, yawning against him. 

“Tell me why I wanted to be up at this ungodly hour again,” Louis said, voice still raspy. Harry simply shrugged. 

“Maybe because you just like my lattes that much,” he teased as he slid a cardboard sleeve onto the hot cup and handed it to him. Louis took a sip and hummed, thanking Harry. Harry handed him his croissant and went back to make sure that everything that was supposed to be in the van was in the van. Louis had his suit hanging in the backseat, as did Harry. 

They both ate their croissants and sipped on their respective coffees as Harry drove into the city. The radio was blasting and both were happily singing along. It was weird how they both just _may_ like each other and how they definitely kissed yesterday — without any regrets. At least, no regrets that they thought of now. 

Louis showed Harry how to get the closest parking spot to where he will be setting up so that they didn’t have to run back and forth too far. Harry was thankful for Louis’ help because the bakery simply did not have an extra person to spare today. They set the display up with the help of a bunch of assistants from the production, and Harry had only managed to _maybe_ accidentally smash a cupcake into Louis. And, of course, Louis quickly returned the favor. 

It wasn’t long before the entire display was up and Harry looked back at his work, extremely proud of what he had managed to do, all within a week’s notice. He knew that if Joe was still working, he would be proud of him. 

Louis stood on his tip toes and rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, smiling. He was proud of Harry, and he was surprised about how he felt. Sure, he's felt proud of people before, but this was a different kind. This was a “damn, this guy can really do really good work and I hope he knows that,” proud. It was a wonderful proud. He kissed Harry’s cheek before pulling away. 

“We really should get ready,” Louis said. Harry nodded and retrieved the suits from the back of the van. 

They went backstage and changed. Louis fixed Harry’s hair for him and styled it so the curls fell against his shoulders _just_ right. Harry was surprised Louis knew how to make it so perfect, but didn’t question his abilities. Today was a wonderful day. 

Harry and Louis took their respective places on the red carpet once time rolled around. By the end of the walk, everybody was seeming to love Harry’s cupcakes, and nobody raved more about them than Louis did. 

Maybe, just _maybe_ Louis would have a date for the next red carpet walk. Just _maybe_.

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is the longest thing I ever wrote, oh my God. I hope it turned out decent! 
> 
> I'm trying to post 100 fics in 100 days, which I started on May 10. Feel free to send requests / comment requests. I'll try to do every comment.


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